


Hunter's War

by BubblyCeci



Series: Never To Be Finished (Probably) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Vernon Boyd, All-Knowing Deaton, Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Awesome Alan Deaton, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Slight Season 3 AU, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyCeci/pseuds/BubblyCeci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If I have learned anything since getting involved in all this nine years ago, it’s that most hunters are bat-shit crazy and betrayal of the Code, perverse as they have made it over the years, is a death sentence."</p>
<p>Stiles’ pack is flourishing. Since Scott became Beacon Hills' Alpha, they’ve not only established themselves as a force to reckon with, they’ve grown to view each other as family. There’s just a few problems standing in their way to true happiness. Chris Argent can’t seem to escape the bitterness of losing his daughter to those he hunts, Stiles is suffering from his mate’s almost decade long absence, and the revelation of Scott and Allison’s daughter just may be the catalyst to solving everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunter's War

          He glared at the man, hand tight on his wolfsbane infused dagger and honey eyes wide, only the flash of warning showing them to not be as innocent as they seemed. His long and lean body swayed with the wind, fight-or-flight instinct working overdrive even as his crouched posture showed he would defend the half wolfed out baby- five years old at most- sobbing behind him. Nothing about him screamed dangerous- not really, what with his Bambi eyes, spindly body, and pretty face- but his voice was low and rough when he spoke. “Chris, this wolf is one of ours. New, yes, but ours, and this is her first full moon since changing. Her misbehavior can be excused, as she didn’t harm anything or anyone, and you can rest assured that Scott and I will find fitting punishment.”

          “He turn her?” the elder snarled in question, eyes crinkling as his lips curled in disdain. He looked so much older than he was, and Stiles couldn’t help but think back almost a decade to when the man was strong and proud and, if Allison ever asked he would deny it, _sexy_. The pride was still there, but rage and his daughter’s choice had taken its physical toll on the hunter. “He was so desperate for a real family he had to force the change on a goddamn child, turn it into a _beast_?”

          “Worried about us, Chris?” he taunted, unable to resist. He never had grown out of the habit of teasing and baiting his enemies. He had only learned to defend himself from their retaliation- Deaton and Allison were godsends in those early days when their pack was just starting up, and still were when he wanted to try out something new and potentially dangerous. Stepping back towards the werewolf child and pulling it flush to his back, he kept his gaze on the hunter and the surrounding area. “No, I’m afraid Scotty hasn’t bitten anyone, not since we lost Danny.” And that had been one of the worst things they had had to get through. “No, this is Victoria McCall.”

          The hunter froze, wrinkled and veiny hands white-knuckling around the shotgun in his hand- crossbows were Allison’s weapon of choice, and they, more than likely, reminded the aged man of her far too much. At his desperate head shaking and frantic mumblings- no, no, god, no- he chuckled and pulled the child onto his back. “Oh, _yes_ , Chris. Scott and Allison make such cute kids, don’t they? Scott’s having a tough time making her wait for more. Vickie, meet your grandfather, Chris Argent.”

          Seeing the man still and lost with disbelief, he took his chance. Swinging his godchild over to clutch at his front, he whirled around and ran, ground flying under his feet as he willed his spark to make him go faster. They had already been gone too long, and he didn’t need Isaac or, gods help them all, _Scott_ meeting up with a pissed off Argent, not after the news he had spilled to buy them an exit.

          Ten minutes and six miles later, he flew up the stairs to the pack house, glad not for the first time that they had bought the land when the county put it up for sale after the Derek left. He could see why the Hales had resided there throughout the ages- the land was vast, perfect for pack bonding traditions, full moon romps for those in control wolves, and training practice. Plus, it was far away enough from civilization that the ones not in control could be herded in with little to no issue when feral.

          And again, he wondered why Derek hadn’t fixed it, why he hadn’t tried to make them into what they were now when he was their Alpha. Grief, he understood, made people reluctant to give themselves over to happiness, but after six years his sadness should have calmed enough to at least give thought to starting over. Guilt, then, that he, as a susceptible minor, had allowed himself to think an older woman, a hunter, wanted him to the point of throwing away her Code? That was more plausible, explained why he had taken on everything, every burden, and hadn’t allowed himself to feel joy.

          Still, the thought of the man unhappy cut him to the core. He couldn’t help the thoughts of what if. What if he had noticed all that before he left? What if he had treated the man, the man trying his damnedest to keep them alive and be the best Alpha he had never been meant to be, with some modicum of respect? What if he had allowed them to be friends, or, maybe, try for something more?

          He hadn’t seen the man in almost a goddamn decade, and yet he still haunted his every other thought. He lurked more than ever in his absence. The scents of leather and ash and oak still made him feel safe, only that safety was tinged now with sadness and longing and want, and he was glad Deaton had spoken to him about it once he noticed the excessive usage of cover-up, glad he had manned up and told his pack the reason behind his nightmares and occasional listlessness and lack of relationships, a few tumbles between the sheets being the best he could do and even they felt so wrong.

          Mates. He had laughed, at first. But then Deaton explained, and everything fell into place along with not-a-few tears. Derek, damaged as he was, hadn’t wanted a relationship with him, but he had wanted everyone to know who he belonged to. His aggressive behavior- wall shoving, getting up in his face, everything- had been to scent mark him. His exclusion of Stiles had been to keep his ass out of life-threatening situations. His grudging use of his plans had been to show he appreciated him. Hell, even the man’s one-off with the darach was understandable- he couldn’t accept or claim his mate, and was likely to be frustrated to hell by that fact when it was all his wolf wanted.

          He had never been more grateful to the doctor than when he wrapped his arms around him and let him cry. He had shared his entire knowledge on mates and mating and bonds, and he had listened and soothed when Stiles voiced his fears that maybe Derek wouldn’t ever come back, never claim him. He argued that he was everything a werewolf could want, told him in front of their pack that if the ex-Alpha didn’t come back for him within the decade he would hunt him down and drag him back kicking and screaming.

          He cut those thoughts off with a quick shake of his head, giving Allison a bitter smile when she quirked a brow. Her questioning gaze softened- she understood. She had been the same, years ago, when she and Scott were on the outs, had felt the same. Humans felt it worse, always did, and while he loved his brother, his Alpha, she understood his situation better than he ever could.

          Bitter smile morphing into something sheepish, he gestured down to where her child was clinging to his front, mouth hanging open and a small puddle of drool staining his shirt dark. Without a word, she tugged Vickie from him and disappeared upstairs, reappearing a minute later, childless. Finally allowing himself to slump in relief- he was always tense when dealing with the pack children on full moons; they were weaker, needed more protection, and human or not, his learned wolf instincts were at the fore of his mind during that time of the month.

          “She ran into him, Ally,” he admitted after a moment of gathering his thoughts. He didn’t want to tell her, he really didn’t, but he had to. They had all been in agreement to keep all the children a secret from him for as long as possible, just in case he ‘pulled a Kate,’ and he had just had to let the secret out to save Vickie. He had just told one of the most dangerous hunters on the west coast his daughter had reproduced with a werewolf and given birth to a born one, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think shit wasn’t going to go down. “He was going to shoot her, and I couldn’t get her away without a distraction, so I-I had to tell. I couldn’t risk using magic, not with her close. He knows, Ally, he knows about her.”

          Her soft face hardened, her beautiful dark eyes icing to diamonds, and she nodded once. The movement was sharp, and it was only through his years of knowing her that he understood the movement for what it was- acceptance. She would accept whatever they had to do to stop her father if he threatened their children, and the thought shouldn’t have warmed him as it did. Still, every time his sister chose them, it made him almost giddy, proved that she wanted, needed, them, him, in her life.

          “Keep watch, then,” he murmured, standing from the chair with sinuous grace it had taken years to achieve.

          Brushing a long-fingered hand over the knife strapped to his waist, he exited the house and went straight to the ‘wolf-cave,’ as he and Allison liked to call the shack Scott and the other wolves had built to stay in during the more relaxed moons. Sure to make as much noise as possible- the wolves had admitted such noise calmed them from their aggression, once, after pinning Stiles down when he had tried sneaking up on them without his magic- he slipped into the stone building and nodded to his pack before flopping down beside Scott at the full poker table.

          “Pack business. We have a problem.” Everyone’s eyes flashed over to him in alarm, amber and red lighting some member’s eyes as their mouths went slack. He couldn’t blame them- he never delivered bad news. Sure, he was Scott’s second, but he never seemed to have negative information, not since the early days anyway. “Vickie, it seems, doesn’t have a strong enough anchor to get her through the full moon without close supervision. She got out tonight, went about six or so miles away before I caught up.”

          Letting that news soak in, he shifted his gaze around the table. Isaac and Scott seemed concerned but patient, knowing there had to be more to it than just that- age, and Allison he suspected, had done wonders for his brother, mellowing his aggression and jumps to inaccurate conclusions. Boyd, on the other hand, was stoic, only the glint in his dark eyes giving away his anxiousness. Deaton, there for safety in case of a sudden anchor failure, seemed to already know where the conversation was going, to his not-surprise- he was just wondering when the man was going to admit to being omniscient and claim his place of second.

          “She was lucky I caught her when I did. Chris Argent had her cornered, and I wasn’t willing to use magic so close to her.” His voice was low, and everyone understood. Super healing or no, he was a powerful spark, and she, young as she was, wouldn’t be able to survive whatever he would have had to do against a human. Grim understanding dawned on three of the four’s faces, but he continued. They had to know the full situation, every detail. “He had her backed against Blue Cliff, was going to shoot her, and I got in between them. We traded words- I said that she was new, going through her first full moon and would be punished by the Alpha accordingly, he snapped that Scott turned her in a desperate attempt to add a semblance of family to an unstable pack, and I mentioned that he hadn’t tried since-since we lost Dan before introducing Vickie. He froze long enough for us to get the hell out of dodge, but…”

          “But you’re worried that something’s going to happen,” finished Deaton, dark brow furrowing. His mind was whirling, it always was when his forehead puckered like that, and Stiles was thankful. The man always had a back-up plan if the first couple back-up plans failed.

          He nodded, shrugging a shoulder. “If I have learned anything since getting involved in all this nine years ago, it’s that most hunters are bat-shit crazy and betrayal of the Code, perverse as they have made it over the years, is a death sentence. Before, I think he saw Allison as a victim, someone he could get back if he waited long enough. Now, knowing that she willingly had a child with Scott, wants _more_ , and allowed it to live as a born wolf, I think I’m safe in saying that his making a move against us is inevitable. I just don’t know how bad it’s going to be.”

          “Well, shit,” Isaac huffed, throwing his cards onto the table before shooting Stiles a slight glare. “Every time you bring bad news, you bring _bad news_. You need to stop.”

          Stiles nodded agreeably. “Would if I could, buddy, but the universe seems to like making me the bearer of absolute shit news. Has since I told Scott he was a werewolf at sixteen, matter of fact. I think the powers that be get a sick kick out of it.”

          Scott snorted, and Boyd gave a low chuckle. It warmed his heart further, the fact that even in a bad situation his pack had built enough trust to find comfort in each other. And to laugh! It was a far cry from the ragtag group that had ran around like headless chickens most of their senior year, fighting a different monster every week and getting their pack together.

          “Should we call Jax and Lyds back from their honeymoon?” Scott asked, taking the diplomatic route. It was how their pack worked, and it was so much better for it. They had too many type-a people for him to use the ‘I-am-Alpha-hear-me-roar’ tactic without causing discontent and revolt- something they had learned from Derek during his short time responsible for them. “They need to know, and we can’t let them come home to a war-zone they didn’t know was here.”

          Stiles hummed, pressing his fingers together in a steeple. Unsurprisingly, he spoke first- he had grown into his ADHD, and where it had been a distraction before, he now knew how to use it to focus or observe and remember more than others. It let his thoughts run fast and work out brilliant theories and plans in seconds. “Yes to telling them. They need to know, like you said, in case this isn’t worked out before they return, and even if it is, they’re pack. They should be aware of us and what we’re going through even if they aren’t here. Plus, they’re supposed to be gone half-a-year, minimum. If it gets bad, we can send the kids to them while we work it out.”

          Isaac nodded, agreeing. “And,” he added, “they are sure to have immediate sources overseas that we might not be able to access in a given time frame. They did say that they had plans to ransack every legitimate magic shop for us, our library, and our magic item stores.”

          A quick glance at Boyd showed the man simply shrugging and waving a hand. ‘Go ahead,’ it said. Stiles grinned at his ability to speak ‘Stoic,’ and Scott rolled his eyes while Isaac snorted, both knowing him well enough to guess his thoughts.

          “If it is amendable,” Deaton interrupted the four’s speechless conversation, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before turning back to the younger men, “I have a few sources I can contact. I’ll give you all a chance to deal with it, at first, but if it gets bad enough to worry me, I’ll be calling them on your behalf.”

          “Agreed,” Scott murmured, hand folding out to shake his coworker’s.

          “Let’s also agree that ‘bad enough,’” Stiles chimed in, face shuttered and drawn at the thought of his next words, “is being forced to send the children and Ally away. I know she is a big girl and is a force of nature in her own right, but it’s her father. She’s going to be affected, bad, and I want her as out of the middle of this confrontation as possible. And, well, Jackie and Lance are too much like their parents to back down when the ‘grown ups’ are doing something exciting. Her going with them would calm them enough to ensure they leave with little fight.”

          Boyd nodded, and Scott’s nose scrunched up. He mumbled, distaste obvious in his voice, “I still can’t believe they named their twins after themselves. It’s weird. Jackson and Jackie, Lydia and Lance. Urgh.”

          Ignoring the Alpha, Deaton smiled. “Perfect. Now, then, who’s going to make that call to France?”

 

…

 

          Stiles’ sensual mouth turned down, and he jerked his arm away from the tight grip on his elbow. It had nothing on the strength his pack trained with him with, but it was far too strong to be a normal human. His big honey eyes glanced down the aisle he was on, hardening further as he noticed the four people- two women, an off duty police officer, and a small child- with him. Seeing no reflective surfaces and hating the fact that he had used his magic to only memorize the smell of pack, he turned, stiff.

          Chris Argent stood just to the right of him, a small smile crinkling the edges of his lips. If it wasn’t for the slight glint of madness in his clear blue eyes or the silver glint of metal peeking out from his pants, he could have been mistaken for a friend stopping to say hello, but as it stood, Stiles knew it was a warning. That shit he warned the pack about? It was starting.

          “Stiles,” he began cordially, smile widening as he took in the slight step he took away. “I’m glad I caught you. I won’t be able to make that date tonight, after all. See, some friends of mine just arrived in town, and I’m having to help them settle in.”

          Stiles repressed a shudder at the thought of a relationship with the man before his wording hit home. Friends. He said it with a certain inflection. _Friends_. He had called in the goddamn hunters. He had called them in on his own goddamn _daughter_.

          Pasting on a sultry grin, he sidled closer to the man and pressed his backside flush against the elder’s crotch and ground teasingly back. Swallowing his disgust and guilt at the act, he allowed his grin to grow when he felt the man’s cock betray his feelings and begin to swell and harden at the sensation. It was kind of gross, what with the bastard wanting to kill his pack off, but his spur-of-the-moment plan needed him angry. He needed to goad him into a fury, get most if not all of his rage focused on him instead of the children or Allison, at least until they got out of town.

          “Chris,” he purred, moving back to his own space after one last teasing brush, “I guess I’ll have to play all alone, then, but rest assured, I’ll be thinking of you when my toy’s brushing deep inside, Mr. Thigh Holster Hottie. Maybe I’ll even send you a video. But tell me, how many of your _friends_ are going to steal my attention?”

          The man’s jaw clenched, the only sign of his sudden case of arousal aside from the tent in his jeans, and he considered it a win when it took him a minute to reply. “Several of our sub-clans,” he ground out, moving a hand down to- finally- adjust the hard-on that refused to subside. Determined to keep the hate filled attention on him for the moment, Stiles leaned forward and knocked the hand aside, rearranging the man’s pants for him after cupping the twitching erection with a wink. Chris visibly repressed a snarl. “Enough to fill a dozen SUVs. I won’t be able to see you until they leave. You can understand, right, sweetheart?”

          The endearment was spit out like a curse, showing how much his plan worked. He nodded at the hunter, a pout curling his lips. Keeping with the act, he leaned forward and ran a slender, long-fingered hand down the man’s firm chest before sending him another wink and leaving the aisle in a hurry.

          He finished the shopping before heading back to the pack house. His warning had been just that- a warning. They had no plans to attack right off the bat. Hunters never did. They wanted their prey to sweat, to fear. They got off on it.

          That night, he leaned back against the wall of their meeting room, his eyes roaming over the others and taking in their increasing frustration. It was understandable. Chris hadn’t made a move in the two weeks since the incident, and they were antsy. It was with relief that he spoke. “He’s made a move.”

          Scott’s head shot up from his hands, and Isaac’s neck cracked with the speed at which he looked away from his book. Boyd hissed a sigh- relieved- while Allison’s hands clenched once before relaxing. Deaton, again, was unsurprised.

          “Earlier this evening, when I was shopping,” he explained, looking down at his hands. He had washed them multiple times upon arriving back, but the guilt still lingered, still cried out at the injustice of cheating on his mate, and it was all he could do to focus on the issue at hand. “He insinuated, quite plainly, that he had called in other hunters. Sub-clans of the Argents, he said. When I pushed- and please don’t ask how- he said there were enough people to fill a dozen large vehicles. I’m guessing at least seven per, and that’s leaving room for weapons and the like. A call to the sheriff’s department confirmed.”

          Glancing up, he took in the pale, determined faces of his pack and sighed. They knew what he was going to suggest, knew what he was going to lobby next. And while it hurt his pride, while he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his pack was _powerful_ , they needed help and they needed the vulnerables out of the way. “The children need to be on the next flight to Europe, Ally with them, and we need to call in both our allies and Deaton’s. There isn’t going to be any middle ground this time. When the hunters hit, it’s going to be bad. I say we prepare and wait for their strike first- anything less and we could be considered dangerous, and they’d be well within their Code to take us down.”

          When no one moved to protest, Scott sighed. His friend’s shoulders sagged, and when he ran his hands across his face, it was with a weariness one his age- they were only twenty five, dammit- shouldn’t be aware of. “Motion passed,” he murmured, and silence reigned for a moment, solemn. They were all, no doubt, remembering the last time they had gone to something resembling war, remembering those they had almost lost, lost, or killed. Eventually, the pregnant moment was broken with preparation. “Deaton, can you call up your allies? Stiles and I are going to video chat Aiden and Ethan, see if we can’t get a hold of Deucalion as well as that witch coven we helped out last year… Boyd, can you score four early flight tickets out to the area Jax and Lyds are? We need to get ours out without alerting the hunters off the bat- they might attack if they see what we’re doing, and we can’t risk the kids. Everyone else, help pack for the ones leaving.”

          In the hustle of going about their jobs, Allison cornered him. Her dark eyes looked him over in concern, noticing the minute trembling of his hands, and her own squeezed his shoulders. “What’d you do, Genim?” she questioned, running a thumb down his cheek.

          He sniffed, the guilt flooding back and slamming into him like a bullet. Ignoring the way the tears fell, he clutched her to his chest and whimpered. “ _Hurts_ , Ally, it hurts so much. Am I useless? Is that why he hasn’t come back? Or maybe he hates me. I used to be such a pain in his ass, I wouldn’t be surprised. I-I was a bad mate, and he left me, doesn’t want me. I’m still a bad mate, aren’t I? I try so much to be better, cooking for the pack, learning how to defend myself and to use my spark, to be an asset, and taking care of everyone, but it’s not enough! I’m not-.”

          He choked on his words, the tears falling faster, and she shushed him gently, running her hands up and down his back as he wet her shoulder with salty water. Gasping, he continued. “I-I had to get his attention on m-me, Chris’. I f-flirted, made him a-angry enough to focus on me, ignore the children. Rubbed against him and made s-sexual comments ‘cause he hates me and I knew it would make him furious. Had to get a w-window for you and the kids, m-make him focus on me first, getting me first.”

          “Oh, Stiles,” she whispered, dragging him closer even as her own dark orbs went fuzzy. Her hands moved to comb through his hair, comforting him as best pack could, knowing all the while the only one who could help her brother heal was his mate, was _Derek_. “It’s okay. You did so good, sweetheart, I promise. You always do so well, take such good care of us. You’re a wonderful mate- so pretty and kind and fierce… And- remember what Deaton said? It’s almost been a decade. Derek Hale’s going to have all of us on his ass if he doesn’t get home soon.”

          His gasps and whimpers turned to hiccups and shudders, and she resumed stroking his back. It hit her hard, and she was thankful the rest of the pack noticed her being the only one really capable of handling his situation. They didn’t understand how it felt, being separated from their nonhuman mate, because they _were_ the supernatural ones. Sure, they felt the sadness, the lingering need for the human, and they couldn’t have another relationship because of it, but they could go longer without a breakdown. It took them longer to feel the hole, _gaping and raw and bleeding_ , being separated from their mate left, took them longer to feel the overwhelming insecurities and loneliness and inadequacy.

          “It’s going to be okay,” she croaked, emotion making her throat tight. Her brother didn’t deserve it, that feeling and for so long… “Your pack’s here, you’re Scott’s second, your godchildren worship the ground you walk on, Isaac and I think of you like an older brother, Boyd and Scotty are ready to murder anyone who hurts you, and I think Deaton sees you as his own son. And- and Derek is going to love you. He already did before he left.”

          Stiles shook his head furiously, and she shushed him, tone stern. “Oh, yes he did, sweetheart. He loved how you stood up to him, how you saved him as much as he saved you. He loved seeing you barefoot in his kitchen after a hard training session, cooking something substantial for the rest of the pack while swaying your hips in time to the pop song of that week. Ask Scott if you don’t believe me, but he always said the smell of lust and love were so strong the rest could barely stand eating your delicious meal before skedaddling. He loved you, and that kind of thing only gets stronger with time, I promise. He’ll never let you go again once he has you.”

          “Promise?” he whispered, face lifting from her shoulder. It was red and tear-stained, and she brushed the lingering traces of salt water away, patting his cheek after and nodding. His red-rimmed eyes fluttered close for a moment, and then his back straightened and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Scrubbing at his face, he gave her a broken grin and tightened his hold on her for a second before letting go. “Thanks, Ally. I-I needed that, I think. It’s so difficult, now. It always was but the feeling is getting worse. Everything is closing in, smothering me. But I’ll be okay. Promise. I have to.”

          He squeezed her hand in thanks, stumbling over to Scott as soon as he released her, and after taking a deep, shuddering breath, she exited the room to pack. Neither noticed Deaton a foot away with his phone screen-side up in his palm, the recipient having heard everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to marguerite_26 for the Thigh Holster Hottie reference. I was reading that series of hers a bit before I started this monster of an unfinished fic.
> 
> Stiles is OOC, yes, because of how I imagined mates to work in this 'verse. In this one, mates being together helps better the people involved, sooths their worries and helps them relax and grow emotionally. Without their mate, a ton of their issues are left to fester, eat at them. Sure, the pack bonds help, but there's only so much they can do- family can't replace mate, not fully. Being with Derek would eventually heal a lot of his problems, mainly the inadequacy and almost bipolar emotions.


End file.
